Faded Glory
by thin white duke of death
Summary: Just a normal week for our classic Clown Prince of Crime.On week batman goes a little too far though. Harley commits suicide, care to wonder why?
1. Chapter 1

Faded glory of a clown

The dark, painfully lonely alley of Gotham was ever so slightly granted its wish, when it heard the Jokers footsteps. They were frantic footsteps that would worry a mother if it came from her child. The kind where anyone would be guaranteed to panic at. Yes, of course blood was dripping from his face as usual, He's gotten used to that by now, after a while…you get used to the feeling of blood running from your nostrils after the millionth time it happens. The shoes he had at the time were almost going to split apart due to that knife stabbing into the soul of the shoe when he tried to kick batman. When he took it off, the whole mess was bleached and dripping blood! That was after the encounter the Joker had with him.

He was running. This time the Joker was certain that Batman was trying to permanently disfigure his face. He liked it though; it felt….reviving to him. It was all a huge blur in the Jokers eyes, as Batman was pounding the living hell out of him. Until Joker saw a red and black figure standing behind the Dark knight. It was Harley. He hated to admit it, but he couldn't be more thankful for her showing out of nowhere with her ridiculously oversized hammer. He loved that hammer.

She grunted as she swigged with all her body. She reminded Joker of a ballet dancer in the music box that you always see in a mermaid movie, or a Barbie movie. He always thought those types of movies gave little girls false hope's. They think they can be Cinderella, but in the end, they wind up as a prostitute on the street. Of course, batman knew she was there, and he grabbed the hammer and swigged it at her. That was enough time for The Joker to escape.

He knew he was coming to get him, but he liked this little game. This time though, he broken at least three of his ribs, Batman fractured his entire facial structure (as he always does) and…err…he relocated his shoulder. Therefore, he had to bail. Sure as a flying rat's shit, Batman was already two feet away from the Joker. Sometimes he surprised the Joker. He laughed, as Batman was only an inch away. Then Joker jumped in his car. The keys dangled from his ripped pocket, and he had to rip the pants even more get them out. He sped away, not even looking back at the smoke trails he left. He did a complete circle around the block, so that he could pick up that miserable idiotic Harley Quinn.

Once he dragged her inside the car, he did what he did two minutes ago, sped away. He didn't see any sign of the bat. In fact he didn't see him for the rest of the night. At first, he was furious that he didn't chase him, but after he thought about it, he was slightly relived. Harley was curled up into a ball on the passenger chair, knowing that he was probably going to hit her for her stupidity. How many times have they gone over the fact that bats will probably know someone is behind him, A thousand, maybe a million? He didn't know, but he wasn't mad with her this time. Now she reminded him of doughnuts by the way she curled up. Usually he thought of strawberry frosted doughnuts when he saw a police car, or a police officer. That just proves how pathetic they really are. They are a huge joke when it comes to doughnuts. Come on, what kind of cartoon doesn't have two cops go and have a coffee break at Dunken Doughnuts? Kids, you've watched the TV. Series, even the power puff girls have an episode on that. I bet your thinking "What kind of maniac thinks about strawberry frosted doughnuts when he has just been beaten to a bloody pulp? He would raise his hand and say," I do!" because he takes pride in being an absolute freak.

He has no idea why he did this, but…he wasn't paying attention, and he, well, he crashed into his own hideout and made a huge gigantic hole in the wall. Ha Ha! He thought that if you took a photo of the car's front end, and his face, they would look the same! (For those who do not know how his car looks, it has his face on it. Get the joke?) Harley immediately jumped up in fear and checked if he was okay. She found him cracking up and almost drooling because he was laughing so hard. He needed to work on that drooling problem. He used to do it for a laugh at Arkham so that he would disgust whoever was observing him. Now he's doing it for real. She had to drag him out of the car to get him out of it. He was laughing on the cold ruble on the street. He left about….a gallon of his DNA on that street.

Harley helped him up from the street. He's pretty light to come to think about it, probably around 160 pounds. They had a secret button. It was in the shape of a clowns mask. You had to push directly on its nose. While he was still laughing his guts out, Harley was still trying to remember the code that you had to enter to get past the door. He lost his patience…

"Why don't you just go through the hole I just made? Wouldn't that be a little smarter?"She did what she was told, and crossed the broken rubble with him on her shoulder.

"I don't think I can properly re-arrange your ribs mistah J." Harley said with the bandages in her hands.

"You know Harley; this got me thinking about that annoying board game….what's it called? Bob something…Bob doctor, Bob hospital?"

"Operation. There is no Bob Pudden." She said.

"Yes! That's It! WE SHOULD DO THAT TO BOY BLUNDER!HAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!"

His laughter died down due to the feeling that he might of laughed out blood, or an organ, something, but he felt like he was going to puke something up. Harley gave a faint smile. She found his humor funny, but not when he didn't have the last laugh. She thought he didn't enjoy that night. She's wrong. He didn't mind all the beatings, or pain, just as long as he got to see that Dark Knight.

He knew he wasn't in love with the bat, but he has this sick sense about playing with his fragile mind. He always said to him "One day, I swear bats; I'll kill you when I get the chance! And that little Bird too!" That's a lie. If his goal were to kill him, he would have done it all ready! Batman entertains him. In his words, he is the only one who willing to dance with him. Only because he wants to pretend that this black, cold, world makes sense. He thinks he should protect an entire city, just because of some gangbanger killing his parents. Yes, he knows the true identify of Batman, its Bruce Wayne. It wasn't really hard to figure it out, who else had all that money to burn away in all those wonderful toys? He thought one day. Seriously, have you seen that bat pod? What a pretty penny he paid for that piece of shit. Even if he did succeed and stop crime, ten more happen in Gotham while he's wasting his time. Bats cares for only the hallucination of law(even though he beats all the rouges face in. How formal.)

He couldn't go to sleep that night. Could you go to sleep in that condition? Well, he couldn't. He never really slept anyway. At first he did, then the hours kept getting shorter, and shorter, until he was only sleeping if he was unconscious. Harley was again curled up in a ball. Strawberry frosted doughnuts. Okay…he really needed to stop thinking about strawberry doughnuts, now it's just making him hungry. He really needed to sleep. So he looked around for Harley's hammer. He finally found it under the bed. Then, out of pure will, he bashed the hammer against his forehead. This was becoming common. Harley didn't even bother to wash the makeup off of her face. There wasn't much left anyway. The Joker loved her with the make up more than without it. He would of loved Harley, he really would. It is just that, if he get too involved in her, he might lose her.

You see, this is how he plays with Batman. With a clownish hand, he sweeps every one he cares about to the door of death, or to the point of no return. If he cared too much about Harley, and if she gets killed by batman(on accident) in their little games, he wouldn't know if he could get over that. Everyone who has ever valued of cared for is one tremendous gag! Once it's taken away, people breakdown and they forget about the rest of the world and circles the rest of their life on that one tragic moment. That's how pathetic people are! This was his philosophy; he believed that you should live up to your statement once you make it. Therefore, He couldn't get to lovey- dovey with Harley. If he lost her, and cared about her, he would become one of the pathetic people that he despises.

Well, the suit was shredded, and the thread of it was completely covered of the oder of gunpowder, gasoline, and cigarettes. He rarely smoked, the gang that he hired was a major cocaine company. So, the first thing that happens when he tried to make business with them is the smell of drugs lingering up his nose. Harley didn't even budge when he woke up. She was dead for all he cared. Right when he started to get up from the bed, the door bell rang. Harley jumped up with her smeared make-up (witch by the way looked well anyways) and her and him both looked at each other and said "We have a door bell?" As he expected she got her bazooka. This should be interesting.

She couldn't look through the peep hole because when they chose a forgotten, broken down circus, they didn't think that some idiot would go up to a random door and through a god damn newspaper at it! That thought would have never entered his mind! The ironic thing is that he's insane. When he heard Harley gagging and choking while on the floor, he sprung off the bed. Forgetting that he had three broken ribs, it hurt. He grabbed his favorite silver pistol and flew out of the door.

He aimed at…uh….a potatoes sack. That's what he thought at the time, but when his eyes adjusted, it was Scarecrow, and the Riddler. He thought he was in some dream with a bunch of homosexuals in his hideout.

"Now, how did you morons manage to find my hideout? And since when did I send you an invitations?"

"Riddles are useful when you try to figure out a clown's house."

"Oh so what did you riddle up? Circus clowns and white elephants? Did Dumbo come to your mind as well?" he said

"Don't play games joker!" Scarecrow said in pure fury.

"Me? You're the one who just barged through my door! Not to burst your bubble, but did you know that you could of just walked through the gigantic hole in the wall over there? But anyways," Riddler and Scarecrow looked over at the hole, they felt embarrassed and Scarecrow looked at Riddler in a way of saying 'I thought you were smart.'. Joker kept talking," I do agree with you though, it's usually the other way around, but what do you have to say? This obviously has to be something important."

Scarecrow carelessly dropped a duffel bag on the floor and Joker didn't catch his drift."Oh, no I can't let anybody stay here, you know…rats." He really didn't want them to stay there, He seriously thought that the Riddler was gay. He really did. He didn't want a gay sleep over, that would have ruined his record completely.

"No." Then he zipped the bag open dramatically and revealed some needles.

"WHERE ARE THE FORMULAS TO THE JOKER GAS?"

Brutal

His gun fired, and the force was so strong, Joker fell on his tail bone, and he thought that it was great to have another bone broken. Just great. Scarecrow pulled out his fear whachamacallit and sprayed it at the Joker. He missed, but the Joker wanted this scene to be something to remember, so he let Scarecrow hit him with the spray. At first, he acted flustered. Then he smiled and pulled out his gun. As it glistened the dimmed light from the hole from the accident yesterday, the flag came out. Scarecrow was confused, and frightful, Joker could hear him praying under his breath. It. Gave. Him. Pure. Pleasure. He smiled as he pointed the gun at him. Then turned to the Riddler.

" What's red, purple, green, and brown?" The Riddler thought about it and then finally shook his head and said," I don't know, all of us combined?" The Joker smiled and said," No." Then faced the gun at the Riddler.

" You in about two seconds." Then he laughed hysterically and pulled the trigger.

The Riddler flew backwards with a fountain of blood flying before him. Joker jumped on him and pushed his finger hard into the gun wound; Scarecrow was going to kick the Joker but was shoved out of balance by Harley Quinn. She pulled out her bazooka and fired. The explosion looked like a fire version of cotton candy. He couldn't help himself but to laugh. Riddler watched with eyes that would burst out of his head. Harley kept shooting, Joker could care less if the hide out was completely wrecked, she knew that. The hide out was turning into a death flavored cotton candy ,machine! It was great to the Joker he laughed as the whole place was engulfed in flames. Scarecrow backed up to the wall, out of breath, and he wished he didn't piss his pants just then.

"Oh, is the potato sack scared? That's really ironic!" The Joker had to say that. Then Riddler gave the effort of getting up and grabbing the gun in the Joker's hand from behind his back.

" Riddle me this, riddle me that, what's more funnier that a laugh?" Joker was shocked, he couldn't believe it, and he laughed and smiled at him despite the stunt he pulled off.

" Me getting shot?"

" WOW! Your physic!" the Riddler said gleefully. Then the gun shot was like a heart stopper for Harley Quinn. She couldn't handle the thought that the bullet entered his thin body. She dropped the bazooka, letting it discharge again, so another blow hit the bedroom, where a dozen propane cans were secretly hidden. Everyone(except Joker since he was unconscious) ducked and dropped to the floor. Harley searched for the Joker, and didn't see him anywhere. She glanced behind herself, only to find the short notice of a crow bar flying towards her face. She thumped on the floor, with a bruise on her right cheek. Then they both dragged the Joker, leaving the jester, Joker's girlfriend/sidekick behind to burn. Like ashes. This proves the Joker's point, If he cared about her, he would have been heartbroken(believe it or not he has a heart.)but since he tried not to, he won't be. He's not cold, vile, or evil, he's just smart.

Scarecrow and Riddler were sitting at a table, checking if all their plans for later where going to work out." Do you think some of his chemicals are in the asylum maybe?" Riddler asked. "No, Joker wouldn't do- well maybe he would, but I'm not sure…He's insane." Riddler smirked and said, " Like You're not." Scarecrow looked at him with the slightest glare in his eyes. Then he decided to let it go and go check on Joker, but then he wanted Riddler do it. Riddler gladly agreed to do this. He wanted to get revenge on that bullet shot.

When the Joker woke up, he was on one of those tables they strap you in. He thought he was in Arkham, but he didn't feel like he was over dozed with morphine, so he thought about it. Then the awesome , most fantastic feeling of the gun wound in his chest reminded him of what happened. He murmured to himself, cursed to himself, even hit himself….oh wait, he couldn't. He was strapped to a table. He wanted to though…..

He could easily set himself free, because they forgot to get rid of his flower. The only problem was…how was he going to aim it, not to mention, pump it. Well that was great, so he was pretty much stuck there. He was still cursing to himself, and he was swearing that he would get his hands on Scarecrow and Riddler, especially Riddler. Then like he was summoned, Joker herd the door unlocking, and saw the green figure.

Riddler smiled as if he was the Joker, this was getting on the Jokers nerves. He always though he was a copy cat.

"So, enjoy your late afternoon sleep?" Riddler asked, still smiling. Joker gave a chilling grin.

" Great, just great. I have to ask you, did that gun wound ever take….effect?" Riddler's face scrunched up in confusion.

"What do you mean? It did what any old bullet would do, make me bleed."

Joker was pleased with his answer." Well, you see, I was testing out this new toy I had…" Riddlers eyes widend until they were again, looked like they were going to pop out of his head. Joker would like to see that, he would pay a million bucks to see that. " What could possibly be more dangerous with your bullet that any other bullet? Wait, you wouldn't be telling me this if you actually wanted me to die. Your lying." Jokers grin even got bigger. " Oh my dear friend, your right! I do want you to die, but…." Joker looked up. " I'm not lying, I just told you that so that you can answer this riddle that even you can't answer…" Riddler looked directly into the Jokers eyes, they swarm with hate, insanity, and darkness of a humor, that no one will ever understand but the Joker himself. Both of their noses were touching.

" You say I can't solve a riddle ?" Joker could smell the breath of someone who probably didn't brush for two weeks. The Riddler was about to say something else but the Joker interrupted him.

" Your breath smells like Dinosaur shit" Jokers smile was full of laughter, but you didn't need him to laugh to know that. Riddler felt so threatened, he was being laughed at by this, CLOWN? He was starting to kick the Joker with a rage that could even be compared to Batman's. This was all according to plan with the Joker's idea, if only he punched him in his left side of his chest. It took him a while to punch him in that spot. He thought he was going to break his ribs, he was enjoying the fact that he was beating the Joker….. The goddamn Joker! This was great, until he felt cold liquid splatter in little, burning drops. He was delighted at first, because he thought that was the Jokers blood….even the Riddler couldn't figure out this "puzzle" until it was too late.

His delightful laughter was replaced with tremendous screams in a matter of seconds. To any normal man, the screams souls sound like screeches of souls from the depths of hell, but to the Joker, it was like a child's nursery rhyme. It was hard to tell who was louder, the Riddler's screaming or Jokers laughter, either way they were as loud as a semi. Joker had bracelets that were clown balloons around his wrist, when they pop, they allow the wrist to become free of the restraint. This was the first time he tested them, so he popped them against the small needle on his chain attached to the loop hole of his pants. They were successful. He slipped though the leather restraints, and while he was undoing the waist restraint, he was laughing like he was about to drool again. Riddler was on the floor, rapidly moving in all different directions." My eyes! There burning like their being eaten up by chemicals! You fucker, it's acid jesus-" Joker squatted next to The Riddler, his inhuman smile upon his helpless body gave the Riddler false hopes, and fear that he has never experienced before, and he was still confused about what happened to him, then he figured the riddle, It was his hydrochloric acid flower. He completely forgot about the flower. Joker was right.

Joker was in pain, but nothing compared to what Batman did to him. He lost count on how many days ago that happened, one time he slept for four days, so he really never knows what day it is. Or what month, or possibly year. He doesn't really care either, all that mattered to him right now was to see The Riddler scream in agony. At this point, he was crying blood. Joker going to was pull out his knife, but it wasn't there. He thought he just lost it, but his gun wasn't there either, nor was the exploding Jack in the box. Joker moaned in anger and disappointment. He grabbed The Riddler by the jacket, and raised him up until he was face to face with him.

" Now dinosaur breath, WHERE DID YOU PUT ALL MY TOYS?" His voice was at first calm, sweat, and in a way…soothing. In the next split second, it was the voice of the devil.

" I-I don't know, I can't open my eyes though. I can't see!" Joker got more frustrated with him and lost his sense of humor.

" Well today your lucky day! Cause I'm going to open those eyes right now!" The Riddlers helpless voice managed to squeal no, but that that didn't make a difference. He could feel the jokers cold, boney fingers on the outside of his eye, then he knew that the Jokers long nail dug under his eye lid. He couldn't feel it, but he knew what was happening, as well as what was going to happen next. " Do you see my face? DO YOU? Listen to me! Get my stuff, or I kill you with a meat blender!" The Joker threw him to the ground, and started to walk off to the door. The Riddler mumbled" But I can't see!" The Joker came back, grabbed Riddler, and placed him against the wall. Then he let go of him, dropping him like a basketball. He was confused, until he barley saw the door ramming towards his face. He Tried to move, but wasn't quick enough. Then the Joker came back and whispered in his calm voice," I…Don't…Give…a. ..flying fuck. How's that for a riddle?" Then he jagged a kick in his ribs walked away. All that was heard was the Riddlers effort to curse under his breath.

Joker wondered around looking for his stuff, not to mention Harley. He wondered if Scarecrow had any pain killers anywhere. He could do without them, but he rather save all that self disapline for Batman. His footsteps seemed louder since they were the only sound in the whole building, which ever building he was in at the time. He saw a door that said, 'b45' So the joker walked inside, only to find tables full of bottles, flasks, cylinders, all of them were filled with florescent color liquids. It was like a fun house in the jokers eyes! He crashed every glass object, including the window. When he took a step back to look at his work of art, he first began to chuckle, then laugh out like a hyena. He thought, "Shattered Glass!" and continued laughing, until he began laughing blood.

Scarecrow hoped this wasn't too important, he was so close to finishing the final formula for the fear gas, then all of the sudden, he hears a bunch of glass shatter for about three minutes. His footsteps were much more quicker, lighter and swift. Almost feminine. Sometimes he walked like that, depended on his mood, or if his back hurt that morning. He really didn't take much notice. Once he reached the end of the wide, ghastly dimmed hall, he realized that the window on the iron door was cracked, following that was a noise from the closet of that echoed, large room. He walked towards the closet, pulling out the fear gas from his back pocket in his street pants, and placed it as his finger nail. He has always done this so that all he would have to do is poke the person and they would immediately be injected.

He walked towards the door way and lunged up further, another step, and a quarter of a second later he saw a clown jump on him. He was bashing his brains in with his bare hands, unbearable laughter is all he could hear. His face mask was beginning to burn his soft skin, he could no longer feel his nose, or his cheeks. He finally gave up trying to pry off the psycho killer clown. It was useless, They were both thin in body structure, but as far as strength wise, Joker was surprisingly strong, scarecrow knew a special material arts, but the clown could easily beat him senseless, with weapons or not if he was mad enough and if Scarecrow wasn't prepared. Finally he felt him stop punching him in the face, but then he felt something more strange. At first it was cold, then stinging with sharpness. Then the Joker crushed one piece of glass into a form that was near powder. He sprinkled it all over the wounds, including his face.

"Now, dear old friend…..WHERE IS MY STUFF?" Scarecrow was confused for a moment, and the Jokers raging was only making it worse." What stuff?"Scarecrow was challenging him. That was a mistake."My beautiful wonderful TOYS!" He bashed his head into the concrete floor, licking the splattered blood that appeared on his mouth. Scarecrow was thinking of a way to end this, but since the Joker didn't seem to have any effect on the fear gas, he was practically dead." By the way….have you seen Harley? I would suspect the slightest annoying sign of the kid." Scarecrow was again confused, but this time the Joker didn't put his rage upon him. This gave him time to be aware of what exactly was happening. Then Harley Quinn came into his mind. There was a long pause in till Scarecrow replied, "Her?, S-She died, dead, gone, explosion, boom! Clown faced manic in my face….wait, what?" Then the booming of Scarecrow thought was his spine breaking was heard, then he was dropped like a bag of puppies, which shot an instant pain through his entire body. Then he felt the pointy shoe ram up through his stomach as well.

"WHERE IS MY STUFF? WHERE? WHERE?"

Scarecrow managed to crock out, "In room C99." He paused as he coughed." That's the lowest level on the elevator…." Joker was already outside the hall, pacing towards the elevator.

Scarecrow managed to look outside the window that was smashed. He saw the bat-signal. He smiled. He couldn't help but to look up and say," He won't get far, he won't get far at all.." He coughed, " That stupid clown won't even stand for a minute." Then he carelessly thumped to the floor.

The Batman

Joker hummed a song to himself as the elevator plummeted down the bottom of the factory. He decided to hit the emergency button, where it goes five times as fast as the normal rate. So the Joker enjoyed his free roller coaster, until the rusted cords to the elevator snapped. Now the elevator was going as fast as how much the force of gravity was pulling him down. Just to be simple, it was a hell of a lot of force. So much that he nearly flew up to the top of the elevator. Then he slammed into the bottom of the floor. Giggling was heard throughout the operation center of the elevator. Then it turned into screeching laughter. He thought to himself that he didn't even need batman to beat him to a senseless pulp. He did it himself.

He pondered around the bitter cold, gloomy, jeepers creepers basement, not to mention that it was as dark as the Jokers soul. He felt like he was in a horror movie. Maybe the psychotic clown from Stephen King's IT will come out and get him, oh wait…he thought. I am the creepy psychotic clown! He laughed again. This time his trademark rang through the dusty chilled air of the basement. He tripped over a vault, a steel vault that was the size of a small table. He looked directly at it, turned away, got up, and grabbed the crow bar that was smiling at him next to the elevator. He was surprised that he could see all of this in the dark…he was like a spy. He gave the vault a loud whack aimed to the hinges, and again, and again, and so on. When he was done, the vault was not recognizable at all. Dents, scratches, you name it was there. He was pretty good with a crow bar, as everyone in the city of Gotham knew that he killed the second Robin with a crow bar. It was so easy, he often thought about killing the Nightwing (The first Robin) with a crow bar. He thought about it a lot, but he never liked to do the same trick again, ever. That's what's so dangerous about him, and he knew that. He liked it.

All he had to do was flip over the vault and the door would most likely open, but it weighed a ton, so he had a problem. There was no way his skinny frame would be able to lift the steel box, he thought that not even Batman could pull that off. He would need some one more like Killer Croc, or Bane. He tried anyway. He grunted as all his muscles gave its best effort to tip over the vault. To his surprise, the vault was starting to tip over. But it was taking every ounce of energy he had. His gloves were starting to slip off, but he just barley tipped it over enough for it to fall. All his weapons scattered all over the floor. He smiled while he picked up all of his 'toys' and headed towards the elevator. Then he remembered that it was broken.

"That wasn't too smart, was it Joker?" Joker nearly hit his head on the vault, surprised somebody else in the room. He gazed upon a familiar figure, six foot at least, completely black in color, and points on the head. Then the bat on his chest appeared, and Joker knew who it was. He definitely knew who it was when out of nowhere a fist stuck him in the chin. He flew into the elevator, smiling, he says;"What took you so long? Did I finally wear you out or did you just become bored?" Batman walked in front of him, and stood in front of him for about ten seconds, and finally said;"Where are the others?" Joker was confused for a second, but then realized who he was talking about.

"Riddler? Scarecrow? PPPFFTT! All you have to do is hand cuff them! There both up the elevator…which doesn't work by the way..but yeah, their bleeding their guts out, their meaningless lives are getting shorter, and shorter, and more painful!HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!" His laughter was interrupted when Batman's grip was getting tighter around The Joker's neck. He didn't get one once of air for about a minute, and during that one minute, surprisingly, the Joker could grunt out, "Y' know what t-gag! This reminds me off….cough…The Simpsons! Where that fat guy keeps choking Bart! HAHAHHHA-gag-AAAAA." His laugh fainted into a dead silence. Batman used his bat hook to raise himself up to the top of the elevator's trails. He had to kick open the top elevator door. He saw a room where almost all of the windows were shattered. All the glass shatters were on the floor, along with a huge potatoes sack….oh wait it's Scarecrow! He was hunched into a U-shape, and was lifeless. Batman checked to see if his pulse was normal. It was slow, dangerously slow.

All Batman could do was deliver the Joker and the Scarecrow in time so that Scarecrow didn't lose too much blood. Arkham upgraded their security. Batman knew that wasn't going to help Gotham at all. It seemed like every two seconds the Joker escaped. Security, or not…he escaped every time. Every time. When they saw the senseless body of Scarecrow in the arms of Batman, they got a stretch table, rushed out with the Scarecrow, and took Joker to the infirmary as well. One of the workers stopped Batman as he was about to speed away in his car.

"Did you find Harley Quinn? She's been out ever since he escaped two months ago…."

Batman's eyes glared. This wasn't right, he thought. Wherever Joker is, she's there as well. He had a strange feeling in his chest. A lingering, self rightness feeling that made him worry about her. Did Joker finally get tired of her and kill her? Is this one of his sick jokes? He couldn't decide.

"What about Riddler?" Batman stopped his thoughts completely. He had forgotten about him. He was so caught up in Scarecrow and Joker, he forgot. That wasn't a problem though, he would find him another night." I'll find him later." Then he sped off in his new model of his bat mobile. Leaving the doctor with positive hopes that he will find them. Hopefully.

One fell out of the coo-coo's nest

They gave Joker no sympathy, despite his injured body. The Joker didn't really care how damage it was, just as long he has had his fun. He's never had a day were he didn't feel pain. That wasn't really his concern, he's so used to it…he barley notices it. Sometimes when he gets shot(it's not very common) He doesn't notice until Harley points it out. Or if in an obvious spot. They didn't even really do anything in the nursery. They just injected him with 'medicine' which god only knows what's really in that needle, and from there on out he was in a straight jacket.

It didn't take him long to get out of it though, probably took him only five minutes to undo the entire thing. Then off he went stabbing some security guard with a needle. Don't even ask how he got the needle, he might of stole it from one of those bags were they put the used needles in. The only reason anybody noticed this was because all the other inmates were praising, "Joker! Joker! Joker!" And of course, he was laughing like a coot. It was really hard to not hear his psychotic ,tremendous laugh. The guards came in, with their tazers, guns, pepper spray, etc. They weren't taking chances. Not after the Joker set a new record and killed at least ten guards with a plastic tray. A plastic tray. If you can kill ten, buff, young, toned, trained security guards with a plastic lunch tray …you were a god. They all barged in the maximum security hall(which didn't really have a lot of security guards, given that one of them was getting stabbed to death with a needle) and warned the Joker to give up or they shoot. Joker found this ironic. And funny.

" I already have two bullets in me! Give me all ya got! Bet you all can't shoot for shit!" The next thing anybody could hear was bullets rapidly going off. It was literally raining bullets. Joker used the security guard he's been stabbing as a human shield. Too bad, He thought. He was still alive too. The guards stopped shooting, realizing they just killed one of their own men. As soon as they stopped, he ran. And boy, he could run. He headed straight towards the elevator. Hopefully it won't fall this time.

There where screams, shrieks, crying. Sounds that you made when you where waking up from a bad dream. A nightmare. The guards where all over him, crushing his sore ribs into the depths of his lunges. They were literally too many to even know what exactly was going on. One of the doctors pulled out a familiar figure with the point glistening in the horribly bright, harsh florescent light. It made a frequent halo, and shadowed his entire figure as he kneeled down and was face to face with the restrained clown. Joker didn't want the needle. Neither did he want to be pinned down to the ground. There was only one person he was okay with doing that with…..

"You inject me doc, and I kill you….slowly…" The doctor paid no attention to the remark and stuck the needle deep within his flesh. Before he was going out he made sure he looked at the doctor's name tag. His name was Joel. Now he was just another death sentence on his list. Joker thought that this just wasn't his day. Everything went black as usual when somebody is injected….he doesn't know what's lingering in the near future, not even the doctors knows….not even batman…not even destiny knows. Nor do they care to know.

His eyes were painfully blinded with intense glimpses of white. White, what a boring color the Joker thought was. He wasn't in the orange jumpsuit yet. But his toys were missing. Again. Arkham had an entire corner of the storage room packed, stacked, and clustered with the Joker's weapons. None of which anybody dared to search, his current supplies were just added to the collection. He searched the room. There was a mirror. It also had a crack in it. He knew he had been in this cell before. He remembers cracking that mirror with a guards skull.

He looked in the mirror, and knew that his appearance wouldn't be pretty. He knew he had blood all over his face, scares, bruises. All souvenirs of times he can't recall to remember. He took his boney figure and gently touched the flesh under his right eye. It was black….pitch black. Batman black. It wasn't a black eye, just rings from the lack of sleep. He rarely slept. Willingly. Usually he slept because of the drugs constantly flowing through his body(Arkham's drugs) or because he was knocked out for a reason. His eyes had blood shots. He was already sick of being in there, he set his figure nail against the soft glass, and scraped it. A huge smiley face was carved within the mirror. He thought of cat women. How they were in love with each other, the Bat and the cat. Then he remembered a jester, a red and black one. A harlequin. HARLEY QUINN.

He tried to hold in his emotion. He would of all ready began ringing the air with his laugh by now if he was his self, but he wasn't trying to hold in laughter. His lips were pinned closed, his teeth where grinding off another. He wanted to live up to his reputation. Sometimes…you have to let go…of your mind. He was holding back…he was panicking. The worst was that he didn't know why. He didn't know why the room was spinning, he didn't know what exactly made his heart sink, bleed, swell up…he had a heart? He had one. A grim one, but a paramount heart. He didn't like were this was going. Not at all. He preferred a beating, sickness, anything but this. But what, exactly was he having? He thought about it. He didn't know yet. His teeth were still grinding together. They were starting to hurt and were sending a painful shock into his jaw. The next thing he knew…the mirror wasn't smiling…..it was frowning. And he dared to look in the mirror. He wasn't smiling neither…..

He was bashing his own skull in, screeching some philosophy, kicking the cement walls to powder, something wasn't normal. Something wasn't right. He wasn't laughing, yet he was still scary. The doctors were going to go in with the guards and calm him down. The first thing that happened was the sight of a guard's ear being torn off by the Joker's bare hand. He sputtered to the floor, clinging to the remainder of his ear. Then the Joker kicked the guard and screamed for the rest of them to get out or he would kill them all. He was losing it. He was insane already….and he was losing it.

" There trying to drive me sane! What if the way we live is insane? What if being insane is a different form of philosophy? What if there was no such thing as insanity and the government just wanted to waste a few more bucks for an excuse of not giving people health insurance? What if cell phones were evil? What if everybody else was going insane….very slowly…I mean, world war two was insane all by its self! You mention holocaust and every one pretends they thought that was wrong, yet, they hate Jewish people! They pretend their life is so swell! But when they get up in the morning, they have to get coffee just to get through the day sitting at a desk! AHHHHHHH! They say they love kids, and then they beat the living shit out of them! Woman can't go out of their house anymore without some sexual remark being said about them, or getting raped! This is justice all right, Oh yeah IT'S JUSTICE! They drag me in here, drug me manhandle me, Then they say that I'm sick in the head! That I need help! Help for what? Being different? I'm just proving a point! A punch line…A JOKE!" the last word echoed through the halls. It ringed through the asylum…haunting the asylum. He was breathing heavily, on his knees. Sitting there on the concrete. Everything was spinning. The walls were melting; the floor was…evaporating. He stood up and stared at the thin figure reflecting from the remaining shards of the mirror. The thin figure stared back." A joke that no one else's in the world gets….I only wanted to show them."

He closed his eyes. Reflecting on what just happened. He hasn't felt like that in a long time. He never felt so vulnerable in his life. His green strands of hair draped over his eyes.

The cocky laughter filled the entire room. Then the whole asylum, reminding the staff, inmates, visitors that….this is one sick joke.


	2. Chapter 2

The escape

Scarecrow woke up to a stinging pain in his back. He was confused. Until he heard a familiar laugh that he heard from the hall ways. Then he soon realized that he was strapped to a bed. Arkham. He was still for a second…then screamed at the top of his lungs until hid entire chest felt like it was going to be engulfed by flames. Then he met the tickle of a needle digging through his arm. The whole place twirled, until it slowly sank within a dark void. The laughter came closer, and closer. It soon became as loud as Scarecrows scream. The doctors were getting really…really tired of this routine.

"Will you please do the honors of closing his cursed mouth up?" A weary, flamboyant guard said in an annoyed tone. The doctor walking next to him gave a confused look.

"We already gave him three doses, with his weight so light, that's all most fatal! If we give him another one, he might over dose." The guard rolled his eyes.

"So….doc…..how's your you?" Every one almost jumped when they were startled with Joker's voice.

"Shut-up clown, your' lucky that your still breathing! A lot of people want to kill you right now." Another guard said. Everyone including Joker was referring that an hour ago Joker ripped off someone's ear off. Joker continued to talk even though his speech was slurred. "Oh. You were buddies with that guy? Oh no! That was so rude of me! Not!" then his laughter filled the halls again. It was not a pleasant sound to hear in four o'clock in the morning. Then Joker turned to the flamboyant guard "I bet I can make you say thank-you." The guard gave Joker a dirty look.

"I'll never say thank you to such a degenerate. Never. Not some psycho maniac clown that finds pleasure in killing people. I'll never say that. You have done nothing to help us."

Joker rolled his eyes and gleefully smiles out of pure annoyance.

"Oh yes I have….If I wasn't here, or if Twofer's over there wasn't here either, people would forget what evil meant. The walking green housed Poison Ivy, the giant ice-cream maker Mr. Freeze, The talking penguin, the walking potato sack, the copy cat Riddler, and a bunch of other people including me would be out of a job! That's not good in the economy at all! As the great William Shakespeare said…an over fill of good converts to bad. Hehehahahaha."

Joker's mind was literally spinning. He wasn't in the mood of being in Arkham right now. The guard that was weary was daydreaming about getting a new job, were he can raise his upcoming kid properly and get enough money to get a decent house for his wife. Then his day dreams came to an end when he tripped over a long, thin, purple leg. He crashed down, and as soon as the other came to help him up. Joker rolled on the floor. When he came back up, instead of his arms behind his back, they were in front of him.

"TA-DA!" The Joker reached for the pistol on the guard's belt. All hell broke out in a matter of minutes. All of them were shot dead, except the flamboyant guard that stood to his feet after being tripped. He did it slowly, knowing that the clown prince of crime was waiting to shoot him down. Then he tripped again and was now face to face with the clown. Or some people can say he was face to face with a gun.

"N-no! Pease I have a wife! A pregnant wife! Don't shoot! For the love of god don't shoot!"

He winced the last three words since his voice was overcome by fear. Joker smiled. His red flesh spreading across his cheeks. It was a horrifying site.

"Oh! So you haved an pregnant wife?" The guard managed to muster out a yes.

"And how long until her's due? I mean she's due."

"In about five months..."

"Oh, I must ask, is it a boy? Girl?"

"I-it's supposed to be a b-Boy." Joker was amused, and he started to clap randomly.

"Ha-ha! You have it all, my friend! A wife, a boy that's coming up... ...So…..what….in the world are you doing in such a place like this?"

"I couldn't get a good job. You know, flunked…." The guard was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the clown knowing his personal life. That's if he ever felt comfortable in the asylum at all. Joker pulled something out of a hidden slot in the sole of his shoe. At first it appeared to be a weapon, but how much damage could you do with green paper? On second thought…he did manage to kill six guys with a plastic lunch tray…and let's not forget the magic trick. The guard flinched as the Joker flashed it in front of his face. He was too afraid to look at whatever he was holding. But a part of him was dying to take a peek.

It was a million bucks. The joker, THE JOKER, was holding a million dollars in front of the guard. This had to be a really bad joke. Without asking the Joker slipped the bill into the guard's front pocket.

"W –why I thought…" Joker interrupted him

"Well then you thought wrong Mr.…." He looked at his name tag. "White. Mr. White You thought wrong Mr. Thong…..that just sounded wrong. Hey! That all rhymes! Sorry, since I can't talk right….I got injected by that mystery serum a thousand times. Now if you would excuse me, I have an appointment to make with the Batman." He sighed as he simply made his way out by shooting every one. Surprisingly, over the loud booming of the cheering of some of the inmates, the guard drew a thank you under his breath. It felt awkward to say such a pleasant quote to such a horrible man, but, he gave him something that would bring wonders to his life. Then out of nowhere a gun-shot was heard, and the guard felt a digging pain in his gut. He looked up, and saw the gun in front of his face. And it shot again. "Ha-ha! I made you say thank you!" Then his laughter filled the halls again.

No sight of him.

"Repeat! The Joker has broken out of Arkham Island! Eleven reported dead! I repeat-" Batman turned off his radio. Joker was starting to give him a headache. His crimes were appearing more frequently, and more deadly. Last week he blew up a high school sky high. When Batman asked him why he did it, he said "Don't you get it? HIGH school. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!" Four hundred out of the eight hundred school student died. At least eighty were severally injured. Then his thoughts were brought back to the world, as he heard a familiar, annoying, and harsh voice.

Psycho circus

I'll tell you all a story about the Joker and the thief and the Knight

He started to walk faster and more in a violent tone as he got closer to Joker. The smile that haunts Bruce and keeps him up at night crept up on the clowns face. As Batman pinned Joker to a nearby brick wall, Harley decided to kick Batman into the Joker's face. Joker taught Harley to do this years ago. Harley would kick Batman into Joker and he would lift up his knee and shove it into his stomach, or a better more sensitive spot a little lower than his stomach. This time he kicked him in the lower area.

Batman had the normal reaction of getting kicked in the crotch, but he was up and running the next second later. He jumped on to a dumpster and landed on Joker while he was running. They both dropped to the floor and collided into each other and sure enough they were pounding each other. Of course batman hade the advantage due to his bulging muscel

He heard a loud cracking. It lasted forever, and the sound was as effective as the chilled air stunned an average human being. An average, boring, pall human being. He violently jerked forward and a scarlet puddle formed in front of both them. Joker looked down, for only one second did his eyes look…..sane. IT looked as if he just stole them from a random man off the street. The next second turned them into those painfully scared eyes into the usual look of insanity. Slowly, his blood stained smile curved up, his teeth glistened red-stained light from the lonely light post. He began to laugh. Batman didn't know why. He laughed. The knight did not know why. More blood than usual came lashing out of his mouth.

"I….have finally…succeeded…." He managed to gurgle out. Batman released his hold and

"All these years it took you, your rage, you –gah- you finally let it consume you

Batman was bewildered, and since he didn't have the patience to try to understand the Joker, he really wanted to just beat the humor out of him, but something was holding him back.

His laughter died down, and his smile faded away, and his eyes lids fell, serving as a peaceful disguise to hide what lay beneath them. There's been so many times, where he has tried and gave his best effort to follow the insane jester down the rabbit hole. Every attempt he gives, he thinks he got him all figured out. And then, like a wrenched curse god snatches the explanation away. So instead of giving another attempt to understand him he kicked him hard in the ribs. Then Harley crept closer to the Joker, not care if Batman saw her or not. Her blue orbs widened, and began to fill with water of sorrow.

She mumbled something to herself, Batman tried to pull up Harley and put her in the car, but despite his built body and strength, she resisted. Her body was still and the only thing that appeared to be moving was the tears running down her cheeks. Batman gave another attempt to pull her up but she did the same thing except she screamed. Oh what a horrible screeching, chilling, stunning scream it was. It was the same type of scream Batman's mother delivered right when her husband got shot. That horrible, fearful, haunting scream.

She was shacking violently."Mr. J? P-p-pudden?" She got closer.

"JOKER!"

The voice was carried out through the entire street as if demons where whispering the same words over and repeatedly through the alley, and batman's mind. And soon the whole city of Gotham. Batman's mind clicked at what the Joker said. Now he realized what he'd done. He'd punctured his lungs.

When a Puppet master is gone

They advanced their straightjackets, and Harley couldn't get out of hers. Her tear stained face was about to burst into sorrow again, but she'd find that her throat was to dry and her eyes where urging her to stop because they felt so bruised they wanted to sink back into her skull. She knew her body wanted to sleep and couldn't take much more of this torture dealing with the horrid fluorescent lights. However Harley's mind didn't care.

She had no purpose in the world anymore, no authority, no power, no fun, and no soul mate. No Joker. It's been three weeks since his death. Three tortuous weeks. They put her in Arkham . In a solitary confinement cell (Since she shoved a rat down a guard's throat) and she was so tired of the darkness. A colorful lively jack-in-the-box would be a sight for sore eyes. She knew that would never come to meet her eyes again. Not after today she won't.

She gave her wicked smile as the guard came closer to her. Today was going to be her last day in the solitary confinement 'cell'. The guard lifted her to her feet, since her fabulous muscles have turned into jell-o over the past weeks. She held her head down until \the guard gently un did her jacket. Then like a rapid puppet, her head lifted up and she did the highest back flip the guard has ever seen. By the element of surprise, she kicked her in the head, and pulled out her gun from the tight grip of the holster. She has had a lot of fun over the years, she thought to herself.

"A puppet can't do much when the master is gone….now can it Pinocchio..."

"Hush little baby don't say a word…" She lifted up her gun "Day's going buy you a mocking bird," She cocked the gun."And if that mocking bird don't sing." She put her hand gently, but firmly on the trigger of the gun.

"Harl gonna to put it out of its misery." Her playful face showed once more and seemed to have a pleasant glow. Then the glow faded immediately after the crash of a bullet went deep into her skull. The glow was replaced with a chilled bone white appearance that threatened the once playful childish structure she had. Blood was splattered everywhere. Soon a red fountain formed. A former patent appeared. The pattern of the blood looked exactly like the ink blot he just saw a moment ago.

"Another….pretty…. smiley face…"

Life is a box a chocolates

Nothing. Absolutely nothing could inferiorities him more than the sound. That drenched in lifeless sound that lingers around every corner of Gotham. That one trademark of his once greatest figure he has come to hate for a long time, too long. Too long for what happened, for what outcome that has been engraved deep inside his soul. The very core of his goddamn soul. Every day, he hears it, he suspects it, and he runs from it. But not from the source that it once came from. No, that source fell and sank to the bottomless pits of Hell. He was starting to wonder if that one who fallen has taken him along with himself. He felt as if the demons only existed here, instead of in hell. This was only current because the Jester died. That sound, he hears it again. Again. Always. It used to be a sound of delightfulness, and happiness. Now the Joker has turned it into the most haunting, lingering wave of recognition that Batman had to tolerate for the rest of his days. Until he died. On September 27th, approximately at 12:34 pm, at age 68. Let the new games linger.


End file.
